The Walls Would Scream
by Fairady
Summary: A series of drabbles for the series. Warnings given in each chapter.
1. In the Eye

Disclaimer: I own not, and my wishes are futile.

Warnings: The usual for the characters.

Notes: For an interest drabble challenge. The interest was Farfarello. Nothing more to it than that.

In the Eye  
by Fairady

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The night was thick with possibilities. The gentle breeze felt incredible on his face after weeks of exile in his room, but it was the promise of the night that appealed most. It was the sweet promise of death that he heard on the breeze.

Thick clouds blocked the light of the moon and stars, setting up a perfectly dark canvas for all his ideas. Murder, violence, blood. Anything could happen. He stared into the empty sky, entranced with the images his mind projected there. Easily letting them swallow his mind until there was nothing else.

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Nagi found him that way. The pale man completely still in a way Nagi had never seen before Schwartz. It used to scare him, that stillness, but that was a long time ago. "Are you ready?"

Farfarello slowly looked down, a delighted smile spread across his face when he saw Nagi. Years of proximity allowed Nagi to read some of the thoughts that swirled through the eye now fixed on him. It reminded Nagi that, with Farfarello, it was not stillness that you had to be afraid of.

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	2. Taste

Disclaimer: If I owned things would be different. But I don't so there you go.

Warning: Bit dark, solo, and slashy.

Notes: For the 'kink' challenge from IJ's wk100 community except I missed the deadline. Seems tame, but whatever. I still love the fucked-upness this pairing would have.

Taste  
by Fairady

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Ken still smelled blood, could feel it on the back of his teeth.

He gripped himself harder, mercilessly stripping his cock as he stared at the blank ceiling of his room. Too hard, too dry. He'd feel this tomorrow for sure.

He tasted blood.

Ken _squeezed_ wincing at the pain and trying not to think, but the copper taste filled his mouth. Reminding him of the fight. The way blood dripped down a too pale face lighting up one strangely colored eye. And how he'd leaned down to _offer_ a taste.

He still tasted Farfarello's blood.

Ken groaned and came.

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	3. Walking Through Walls

Warnings: None.

Disclaimer: I don't own or make money off of these characters.

Notes: Written for a Comment_Fic request on LJ. The prompt was the book title, "The Cat Who Could Walk Through Walls" which I kinda took a little literally. Omi can be just as deadly and serious as any of the others. More in some cases.

Walking Through Walls  
by Fairady

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It's ridiculously easy getting in the building.

Omi follows a group of business men in a side door and sticks close when they come up to the front desk. He doesn't pause or look at any of the security guards checking the IDs of people, just keeps his eyes fixed on the man in front. The guards let him pass without a second glance. He's just another kid following his father to work for a day.

He peels away from the group just before the elevators. The stairs are locked with a keycard access system that's simple to bypass, but he doesn't even need to do that. The door hasn't been closed all the way from the last person to use it. Omi simply pulls the handle, then it's three floors up and he doesn't pass anyone at all. Everyone uses elevators these days.

No one looks at him twice as he moves through the maze of offices and desks. If he's in the building then that must mean he's allowed there, and these people are all far too busy trying to meet deadlines to pay any attention to a kid. The door he wants is opened just enough for him to slip through and the man on the phone is too focused on a folder to notice.

Too much reliance on flimsy security measures, and employees who wouldn't notice a fire if it wasn't on their desk. It's something that the target will not get the chance to regret.

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	4. Gethsmane

Warnings: Death, religious themes. The usual for the character.

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way.

Notes: Based on a comment_fic request. Hm, giving sentience to a rock? What will my mind think of next? And will it ever make any sense to anyone but me? Will writing Farfarello ever stop making me feel like I'm on an expressway to hell?

Gethsemane  
by Fairady

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The slab of rock is encircled with a a crown of thorns. Fitting for the place where Judas betrayed his Lord with a kiss.

The old texts say Jesus Christ knelt upon that stone in his last moments and prayed to his Father. Prayed so hard his sweat turned to blood and soaked into the stone itself. Prayed for the courage and the will to be crucified, and found it in time for Judas to deliver him to the Romans.

Aside from a few olive trees, the rock is all that is left of Gethsemane.

Farfarello steps over the low wall blocking it off from the rest of the hall. Despite being protected from the elements the rock is worn with time. The iron crown of thorns sits in it's own groove, and the outer edges are smooth from thousands of hands over hundreds of years. That it is a place of worship and reverence would be obvious even without the basilica surrounding it.

It was no wonder so many places of worship had been built around it despite how many of them ended up being destroyed. The world only knows of two, but he knows there were more. Far more than will ever be known.

A rattling gasp draws Farfarello's attention. The man is not a priest, of that he is certain, but his position is not what matters. Lying broken in the center of the slab the man has finally bled out. The blood pooling in the cracks of the stone and slowly draining away.

The stone has drunken it's fill. It is far older and more powerful than anyone in this world could ever imagine, and the language it speaks in is sacrifice.

"Fire," he holds out the incendiary before placing it behind the altar. "Let this church burn to the ground."

The timer set, Farfarello walks out feeling the air change. It feels like acceptance. He knows it is when the heavy doors slam shut behind him with enough force to shake the locks into place. The Church of Nations will burn, and no one will be able to stop it.

The iron crown really is a fitting piece. He hopes it survives the fire.

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	5. Writer

Disclaimer: If I owned things would be different. But I don't so there you go.

Warning: None.

Notes: Musing on Manx.

Writer  
by Fairady

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When she was little she'd wanted to be a writer like her father. Entire sheaves of paper had been sacrificed on his old fasioned typewritter just so she could 'practice.' He'd indulged her childish stories of romance, always gently encouraging her to continue.

Things -life- had happened to change that.

She went by her old pen name and lived a life that came straight from her father's novels now. The ones about betrayal, murder, secrets and shadows. Manx was as far away from her romantic dreams as one person could get.

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	6. Nephilim

Disclaimer: If I owned things would be different. But I don't so there you go.

Warning: Violence.

Notes: Why does Farfarello always get so damn scholarly on me? Anyway, key things to Wiki for understanding; nephilim, Azazel wouldn't hurt either.

Nephilim  
by Fairady

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"W-why?" The Priest stammers.

Farfarello enjoys these types the most. When Fear conquers everything. The faithful forgetting God and all they held so dear mere moments before as their very human nature rips it all to shreds. Farfarello has seen the most noble and pious of men turn to gibbering animals at the feet of Fear.

"Why? That's a very good question. Do you think your kind is special?" Farfarello slides his knife under the Priest's chin. Gentle enough not to cut, but hard enough to raise his head up. To force the wild animal eyes to meet his own. "You must be. God allows you to live while my people are condemned. Why?"

The Priest stares up at him. Helpless, an animal staring up into the face of Death. Farfarello knows the Priest has words, has entire speeches, that he could give right now. Morality, sin, what is right and what is wrong. That is what they teach him after all, and if he were able to move past his imminent death and voice them Farfarello would let him live. For a few more moments at least.

"Do you know what I think?" Farfarello laughs, the sound echoing through the small room. This man will not move beyond the Fear. He could tell that when the stench of urine filled the room. "Your kind isn't so special. There is no reason why you should not die as well."

"Who, who ar-!"

Farfarello presses the tip of his knife in. The sharp tip parting the flesh with ease, drawing a line of dark blood across the Priest's throat. "Humans are worse than us."

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Schuldig hits him with a hose the minute he steps outside. "You have any idea how hard it is to get blood out of carpets? The cleaners charge extra for that crap."

Farfarello stands still, watching the blood run down his arms in rivulets. The night is too cold for this, but the blood was no better. Honestly, it's worth the few seconds of discomfort to not hear Crawford bitch about fees.

A blanket has been laid out in the back seat already. He wraps it around his shoulders and gets in. Nagi doesn't even look up at him as he nods. Books in his lap and a notebook laying across them. Farfarello leans over to look.

"Work," Nagi grumbles, tilting the book away from the water he's dripping on the boy. "My English needs to be better."

A flash from the front catches Farfarello's attention. Crawford looks back wordlessly for a few seconds before turning back to start the car. "We will be going to England for a week."

Good. Farfarello doesn't need to worry about another language, at least not yet. He leans back in the seat as they drive away, Schuldig's voice becoming a comforting drone that merges with the pages of Nagi's book. No one asks him how it went, they already know. Through their own unique gifts, given to them through their supposedly tainted blood. The same blood that set them so far apart from the humans that infested the world.

England. He wonders if he'll find a priest there that will remember the old tales as more than just words to be read from a book. Someone with real faith. He smiles at the thought as he drifts into a light sleep. Azazel gave them all gifts to use and Farfarello intends to use them to their fullest.

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	7. Flipside

Disclaimer: I own not and make no money off of this.

Warnings: Violence.

Notes: An unfinished 1sentence prompt for Farfarello and Ken.

Flipside  
by Fairady

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**#01 - Walking**

The park was peaceful in it's own way, plenty of shade and pretty looking things around, Farfarello can see why some people might find comfort in it; he doesn't find his though until he nears a clearing ringing with the voices of children and a voice he usually only hears throwing threats.

**#02 - Waltz**

It's a dance that they both know, metal and blood arching with their twists and turns as Death hovers at the sidelines waiting to cut in.

**#04 - Wonder**

Farfarello doesn't remember what Jei was like, but somedays he thinks Jei was like Ken in many ways, irrevocably broken and desperately trying to deny it.

**#05 - Worry**

Ken wears the thick jacket for many reasons; it's dark enough to hide any sin, heavy enough to keep any chill away, thick enough to give some protection, and it also lets him know —with a quick glance for new tears— if he's been hit in a place where deadened nerves can't feel.

**#06 - Whimsy**

Ken comes home one day to find the sheets Youji had gotten him as a joke pinned up to his wall by knives, the cloth is stretched out across the wall like a tapestry, and it is one; Ken blinks and stares at the abstract designs stretching across the cloth, crisp and colorful, they're a jumble his eyes can't understand as anything more than 'nice.'

**#07 - Waste/Wasteland**

God is the biggest lie; He promised salvation and love and protection, His words promised so much but he knows how that is all a lie; God doesn't care about anyone or anything but himself and it is that revelation that set Farfarello on his course to make the rest of the world realize it.

**#08 - Whiskey and rum**

Ken hates drinking, he hates drinking in a bar even more, but that is where finds himself night after night, nursing a wide selection of drinks and trying to ignore that the harsh taste and smokey air would be perfect for a foreign madman.

**#12 - Blessing**

Pain is the body's way of telling you something isn't right, that you need to fix it before something worse happens; Ken never truly appreciated pain until the day he almost bled out from a bullet hole centered in the numb scars that stretch up his back.

**#13 - Bias**

Ken spat blood and threw his weight backwards but the madman didn't let up and smashed his face back into the ground hissing, "It hurts, I know, but you should expect it from the Sisters; they always lie and use you."

**#14 - Burning**

The guttural moan almost undid Ken but he bit his own arm using the pain to hold himself back from the edge until Beserker went first.

**#16 - Breaking**

Farfarello laughed when he recognized the look in the Weiss kitten's eyes; innocence torn asunder by betrayal but held close by the desperate denial of the willfully ignorant who just didn't want to know the truth, a truth that refused to go away; this one would break, he knew that and Farfarello wondered if the breaking would be familiar to him as well as the look.

**#17 - Belief**

Jei once believed that people always told the truth, Ken once believed that he could trust people; Farfarello knew that everyone lied, Ken wanted to believe he didn't trust anyone.

**#18 - Balloon**

Farfarello watched with interest as Nagi's eye twitched, Schuldig's grin got bigger as he continued to hold the pink balloon with hearts on it toward him, Nagi's hand clenched and the balloon popped showering them all with a cascade of pink confetti.

**#20 - Bane**

The smell of blood and death spurred him on as Farfarello slammed into Ken, they were both blood streaked and wild-eyed.

**#21 - Quiet**

Beserker never speaks after the first flash of metal, he never exhales louder than necessary when flesh meets flesh, he never lets out more than a soft gasp when blood is drawn; Ken can never make the unnatural silence mesh with the loud and clear emotions he can easily read in one yellow eye.

**#22 - Quirks**

Silk isn't the best medium —the paint ran too easily, and the slightest mistake could never be undone— but some of Farfarello's best works have been done on silk; so finding that the only white sheets available in Ken's room are silk only sets him back slightly.

**#23 - Question**

"What's the difference between us?" Ken feels relieved and frightened at the same time to have finally said what they've all thought of, an assassin is an assassin no matter who writes their paychecks.

**#27 - Jester**

Sometimes Ken thinks Youji should've been a comedian —how he managed to get himself into half the fixes Ken's found him in, well, he just didn't know how _anyone_ could manage it— mostly he's just thankful his friend is around and willing to give him a good, _normal_, reason to laugh when he can still feel blood running down his face.

**#28 - Jousting**

Farfarello's eye gleams with an unholy —unholier?— light that Ken vaguely realizes is pure amusement, but Ken is too busy _blushing_ —what is he, twelve!?— at the crude and lewd proposition to pay it any attention.

**#34 - Serenade**

Schuldig grins from his lean against the door, it's the grin he gets when one of them is suffering mentally, "Nagi, thinks you're courting that kitten, _somehow_ he can't get the image of you standing under a window with roses and singing out of his head."

**#35 - Sarcasm**

Crawford looked at Ken with mild distaste, but only muttered something about not wanting to be an Alice for the dysfunctional Brady bunch.

**#36 - Sordid**

They're not fighting for the mission, Ken can't deny that fact anymore not even to his own mind, they fight for fun, for pleasure, they fight because it's wonderful; it's the night that Ken finally admits this to himself that their fight doesn't end with first blood; no, more blood is drawn by nails and mouths and the sharp rocks that make up the ground they lay on.

**#37 - Soliloquy**

"We were made in His image," Farfarello is strangely eloquent when the mood strikes, and Ken can never ignore what he says in those moods, "Doesn't that strike you as a vain thing to do, the sin of Pride first started with Him."

**#38 - Sojourn**

Ken made parole early for good behavior; a car was waiting for him as he hesitated at the gates because he didn't feel different —still hungry and restless— the driver got out and his eyes —_two?_— were gold his smile sharp; Ken left his doubts at the gate and slid into the open door.

**#39 - Share**

"Life's just shitty," Ken repeated it to himself, making it into a litany that pushed it all away, his past, his future, the other's past, and all the ways they were so similar, "it's not the same…"

**#41 - Nowhere**

In Ken's dreams he's following a corpse, he has no idea where they're going or when they'll get there because the corpse has the directions and won't let him see them, all he can do is follow in it's bloodless footsteps.

**#42 - Neutral**

"I know," Farfarello smiled as the sickly yellow light bleached the Kitten's face, "But knowing your name gives me no right to use it until permission is granted."

**#43 - Nuance**

Pain never registered to Farfarello —ripping nails, harsh teeth, bruising hands— none of it phased him at all, but the lightest touch —of fingers, breath, or tongue— made him shiver uncontrollably.

**#44 - Near**

The mission hasn't really started but Ken's already on edge, something's off and he can't pinpoint what it is, not until he enters a room of corpses with one familiar living man who smiles.

**#45 - Natural**

Ken used to know what Kase would do next just from seeing how he shifted his weight, their years of friendship and practice making it second nature; now it's only been a few months but Ken knows instinctively where to block just by watching the shift of Farfarello's muscles.

**#47 - Valiant**

It's harder to do than it should be but Ken knows it's the right thing to do, letting Aya fight Far-_Beserker_ is the only way to stop the madness he'd been spiraling into.

**#48 - Virtuous**

Farfarello is not surprised at the kitten's choice, the whole lot of them were so desperately righteous, he's not surprised at all but he is disappointed.

**#49 - Victory**

_Sally_, Farfarello wonders how the others could have believed the sickeningly sweet things he said to her, it doesn't matter though, she served her purpose and now he is completely free of every tie to do anything he pleases.

**#50 - Defeat**

Sometime between the first mission he stopped listening to unimportant details —all he needed was a face and a place— and the first time he seriously considered killing his team, Ken realized he'd missed seeing the line he'd sworn he would never cross.

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